


Perversion

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-01
Updated: 2002-02-01
Packaged: 2018-11-20 06:48:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11330661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Mulder does some not-so decent dreaming.





	Perversion

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Perversion

## Perversion

by Jessica

Title: Perversion  
Author: Jessica  
Feedback to:   
Author's Website:   
Status: Complete  
Category: Unclassified  
Pairing (Primary): Mulder/Krycek  
Pairing(s) (Secondary):   
Crossover Fandom (if any):   
Crossover Info (if any):   
Other Pairing Info:   
Rating: NC-17  
Spoilers: The Red And The Black  
Permission to Archive:   
Series or Sequel/Prequel:   
Notes: Personal note: After abandoning the X-Files fandom from one day to the other about a year ago and steadily neglecting it since then, I came across this unfinished fic on my hard disk and thought this could be a new start. Risking to bug you with sentimentality, I was known to some as a writer in the MSR and Slash fandom, and coming back now (or trying to), I'm writing under my second name; hope that's alright with the listmoms and archivers. Also, this has not been beta'd, so all mischief is mine :) Also hope everything's still the same in the Slash world, and even though things have changed on screen, all the slashers are still up for some M/K :)   
  
Warnings:   
Disclaimer: Well, borrowed'em, will give'em back.

Summary: Mulder does some not-so decent dreaming.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Perversion  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

I'm a sick man. 

While my life is a huge mess, my career has gone down the drain a long while ago, and I constantly seem to crouch deeper and deeper into my very own den of insanity, at the same time pissing off and scaring away the few dear friends that are left to me, I still somehow manage to top all the hopeless madness I already radiate with, well, with a new refuge from all the daily misery I've caused myself. 

This refuge, deep in me, hidden in the darkest corners of my mind, I've come to use a lot lately. This dream I have, this insane dream... God, just another example of how screwed up I am. Like he is, probably. He, the... let's face it-- the object of my dreams, my desire, my betrayal of those few souls that ever believed in me, who can never know what I think of and do when I am alone and lost in myself. 

Like now. 

Like now, as I am crouched in a corner on the floor, stretching out my arm to touch something, somebody who is not there but joins me so often in my imagination, whom I can feel on my skin, in the air running over the hairs on my arms, soft, ever-so light, heart-wrenching touch... causing more hurt like every thought of him, piercing my heart like a tiny needle. 

And yet, I'm enjoying it. Liking, goddamn needing the pain it gives me, his pain, our pain... ever since that one night when he touched his lips upon mine, as his ghost is now, but this is different, nothing like the brief, shy, confused and confusing tenderness back then; now I feel, imagine, want, wish him seizing my mouth, ravishing me with a rough tongue, grabbing my naked, exposed body with his hands-- how did it happen that one of them isn't real anymore?--, feeling my body up and down, arousing it, arousing my spirits, the smell of leather filling my senses, that dark, musky fragrance that seems to radiate off him, quickly getting rid of his remaning clothes, never leaving me out of sight. 

Our eyes meet and lock for a moment, exchanging whatever emotions there are, but not for long, as the physical need is far stronger and, hell, not as hard to stand. 

He pulls me into him, plays around, making a game of teasing my every nerve into my frenzy, my skin, my nipples, my mouth, all of me, helps me get ready for him, barely accepting me to take any action myself as he is getting far too turned on by just doing this to me, and then, finally, he just shoves me around and pushes himself into me. 

Pain again, precious pain; the feeling of being split in two, heat shooting up my spine. A brief pause in his movement, and I can practically feel him clenching his eyes shut, those deep green emeralds from hell. He is heavy on my back, not any air between us, just skin on skin, heat surrounding us, sweat pouring, primitive noises escaping us, and then he starts thrusting into me, not gently at all, hard, harsh, hot, back and forth, his breath on my neck, into my ear, low words in between gasps, hoarse whispers making me even hornier. 

Then, when I put a hand on myself, he slaps it away with an angry grunt and takes hold of me himself, starting to stroke me, no, jerk me off, hard, all the while thrusting in and out of me relentlessly, and I'm losing it, oh yes, and he is too, his groans becoming louder, his grip on me harder, squeezing the essence out of me, and he's taking me there, and I'm giving away the deepest, the most secret of me, all there for him in this holy moment, please take it, and take me, Alex, do it for me, Alex come on! 

And then it is all just a fantasy, and I am spilling my fruitless seed on the floor, pathetically. Just on the floor. 

Which is where I still am, in my corner, staring at my empty hands. Shaking, breathing hard. 

Help me, I'm sick. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Would you say sequel? ;)  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

Archived: January 13, 2002 

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Jessica 


End file.
